


this is how it feels (to take a fall)

by na_scathach



Series: valgrace week 2020 [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jason does not stay dead, M/M, The Burning Maze (Trials of Apollo) Spoilers, introspective bulshit I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/na_scathach/pseuds/na_scathach
Summary: Jason Grace comes back.
Relationships: Jason Grace/Leo Valdez
Series: valgrace week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810756
Comments: 16
Kudos: 81
Collections: 2020 Valgrace Week





	this is how it feels (to take a fall)

**Author's Note:**

> dia duit lads. lets get on with this I'm fucking exhausted. second day! AU day baby! i had something else planned but I like the idea too much and wanna spend some quality time with it ;) anyways, thanks once again to bunkernine (who's link is in my previous story) and several other people I've discussed this AU with on Tumblr (wait. fuck. does this count as an au? doesn't matter)
> 
> no major warnings! though jason's death is described, not in detail, but it's there. light pinning and jason thinking about himself and godhood for 2000 words, mostly :)
> 
> title comes from Bastilie's _Icarus_ <3

Jason dies. 

This is something he’s always known would happen, realistically. He’s a demigod, a child of Jupiter, his blood sings out for monsters to come and taste it and Jason Grace always knew he would die young. It was just something he had come to accept. 

Until he was facing Thanatos in the face, and Caligula has his spear raised high, while arrows bury themselves in Jason-

He’s afraid. 

Deathly, terribly, afraid. He’s doing this for Piper, he has to do this or Piper will die but-

He doesn’t want to. He wants everything to be okay again. He wants to go back to when it was the three of them and Piper still loved him and Jason wasn’t so  _ lost.  _ Even when Jason didn’t know who he was (like he knows now, how funny) Piper and Leo were like lighthouses in a harbor, leading Jason through the dangerous, unyielding sea. 

Jason Grace does not want to die, but he has only ever been a pawn, and the dying pleas of pawns are never listened to. 

Jason wishes he could see Leo, one last time. His best friend, one of the few people he trusted wholly and completely because Leo was Leo. His best friend. Leo. Who died so Jason wouldn’t have to, but he was clever and brilliant enough to find a way to outsmart death himself. 

Caligula raises the spear, Thanatos looks on in pity. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and Beryl Grace, Ward of Lupa and Champion of Juno, dies. 

* * *

  
  


And then he doesn’t. 

* * *

Apollo, in a final act of goodness and kindness, gifts Jason his immortality, his godliness, his divinity. Pulls him up from Elysium and gifts him with new life. One final apology-

Jason Grace is reborn, with a crown of gold and a heart made of sunflares 

* * *

Jason does not have immortality long. 

It’s quickly taken away from him and given back to Apollo, but it..lingers. It has to. It’s what’s keeping Jason alive, but Jason feels...different. He supposes he would be, due to the fact he was technically the god Apollo for a whole day, but, it  _ lingers. _

Like warmth and fuzziness on the edge of his periphery. A faint outline of gold around him, the way his skin ripples with warmth and the way he always seems  _ warm.  _ Like something left out in the sun for hours. Jason notices this. Notices the way his wounds heal faster, how much quicker he feels, and the sudden urge to write poetry is certainly new and...frightening. It’s all after-affects, Will and Chiron agree and Jason simply shrugs his shoulders and goes about his day. 

He’s settled at Camp Half-Blood for the foreseeable future, though Nico keeps leaving GED workbooks on his bunk, so Jason supposes he’ll have to start planning his future soon-

And, by Diana, that’s a weird thought. A future. In the mortal world. Where Jason could go to s _ chool.  _ Jason has never been to school, but he used to listen to Dakota’s stories about a middle school with rapt attention. Jason doesn’t understand why it was called a middle school. Was it between two other schools? It should just be  _ a school,  _ right?

Jason blinks and realizes he’s been staring at his brisket for the past 10 minutes. He shakes his head, his eyes re-focusing as he lifts back up his head. 

Nico is staring at him, eyes deadpan. 

“Having fun? See the future in your salad, Grace?”

Jason smiles good-naturedly at Nico. The teasing just means he cares. Like Reyna. Or the wolves who used to snap at him as a kid. They’re all just...a bit rough around the edges. “No,” Jason admits, still grinning, “though I’m keeping my hopes up”.  Nico rolls his eyes, but Jason can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. It makes the warmth in his chest expand all the way down to his fingertips. It’s good seeing Nico happy. He deserves happiness.

Dinner is a silent thing for them and Jason is fine with that. Nico can talk if he needs to, and Jason will never push him so they eat in companionable silence, the dull buzz of conversation around them. Jason finishes first and bids Nico goodbye and Nico salutes back, something that could be called a grin dancing on his lips. Jason is giddy with warmth now and he heads to the Arena to burn off his excess energy. 

It’s getting dark, considering its winter, but Jason doesn’t mind. He can’t really feel the cold anymore. 

(the man lies in the dirt, head crowned with blood and chest still and he is  _ inconsolable _ . how dare zephyr-)

Jason shakes loose the feelings, images ( ~~_ memories _ ~~ ) and enters the Arena. 

A few dummies are set up and Jason unsheathes his sword, the gold shining out in the dusk darkness. Jason can feel his energy leaving him as the sun disappears but he shakes it off, rolling his shoulders and settling into his stance. The leather is cool in his grip, digging into his skin and the weight of the sword is perfect. 

Leo really does know how to make a sword-

Jason bites back the onslaught of memories  _ (images. feelings. emotions. not-memories because they aren’t jason’s but they  _ **_are-_ ** _ )  _ that even the thought of Leo brings. Swallows around them like raw meat and poison and swings at the dummies. He runs through the formations and styles and hacks and jabs and swings, his style a mix of roman and greek, because that’s what Jason Grace is. Roman and Greek. 

(pick a side, traitor, pick a fucking side)

A dummy’s head goes flying. The leather is sweat-slicked and warm, too warm, Jason is burning and he never asked to be. This warmth is something he never asked for. 

He collapses back on his ass and pants heavily. It’s night now, but the fading light and stars provide enough light. Jason hopes the Harpies don’t decide they want a taste of sun-cursed child of Jupiter tonight.

The sand-covered floor is hard under him and he blinks sweat out of his eyes. His shirt is beginning to stick to his skin. 

He slowly blinks blue eyes and collapses back onto the ground fully, staring up at the sky. 

Leo is a lot of things to Jason. 

That’s just...the way things are. He’s Jason’s best friend, who convinced Apollo to bring him back, who stuck with Jason and never gave up on him. He forged Jason a new sword and Jason is the only person allowed in the Bunker while Leo works on his projects overnight. They’re friends, right?

Drew Tanaka’s words haunt him almost as much as his mother’s mania does. 

‘ _ Oh come on, Grace, are you telling me you never noticed how Valdez looks at you? Like you hung the fucking stars? Either tell him you aren’t interested or  _ **_do_ ** _ something. Jesus. All you boys are oblivious-’ _

Jason’s breath sticks in his throat. 

Thing is, he had noticed. He just- tried his best not to think about it. He didn’t allow himself to think about it. But. 

But. 

It doesn’t- disgust Jason. The idea of Leo. Of Leo. And him. Like that. Or just the general idea of Leo because Leo is Leo and Jason would burn out the sun if Leo asked him to, face covered in ash and dust, hair greasy and smile sharp enough to cut skin. 

It doesn’t disgust Jason. At all. 

His love for Piper wasn’t fake, gods no, he loves Piper, he just thinks- he didn’t love Piper in the way he was supposed to love Piper. Jason suspects Piper feels the same. The way Jason loves likes Leo is...deep. Without a bottom or a top, like the Pit in Tartarus, where all life came from. No end. Fathomless and deep and fucking terrifying. 

He knocks his head back against the floor and he winces. 

Liking ( ~~loving~~ ) his best friend, Piper’s best friend, seems- not right. Like he shouldn’t do it. Like he’s a bad person for wondering what kissing Leo would feel like. 

Hot blood rushes to his cheeks and Jason blames it on the training. 

He had thought about it. More than he was proud of. Especially when it was just the two of them, in the Bunker and Jason is tired, watching Leo work, scribbling math too complicated for Jason to ever understand, rolling his bottom lip between his sharp canines, until his lip was red and swollen and wet and-

Jason rolls over onto the ground and suppresses the burning warmth in his chest. 

The burning warmth and the memories are the two biggest parts of the divinity Apollo left behind. The warmth is nice, comforting and he can even withstand fire to some degree (which lets leo relax around him. he cant hurt jason. he wont burn jason with his skin or fingers or lips). 

The memories are not nice. 

Jason has dreams of destroying cities and killing people who offended him. He dreams of fire and death and the black hole of nothingness a god carries with them in their core. Divinity feels like death, in Jason’s opinion. Jason dreams of Hycanthius’ death, of Daphne’s, thousand of lovers dead at his feet and Jason hates it, hates it so much that it makes him vomit sometimes. 

The gods are not mortal and they never will feel pain or death or love like mortals (or half-mortals) do. 

It seems like an existence worse than death, to be a god. 

Jason dreams of Leo too. 

In lots of ways. Nightmares, when Leo dies in a supernova of energy and flames. Soft, normal dreams when Jason can’t really remember what happened but he knows it was normal. Sweet. He dreams of Leo working and of their time before the Argo was finished and Jason used to coax Leo out of Bunker Nine with sweet treats and an extended hand. 

He dreams of what it would be like to kiss Leo. 

He dreams of kissing someone who looks like Leo. Dark bronze skin and tight black curls, a dangerous, war-like smile and eyes that glittered with intelligence and chaos. Though the Leo that exists within those dreams seems more...grounded. While Leo feels like fire incarnate, hot to the touch, and impossible to catch, this Leo feels solid. 

Mortal. 

He dreams of moving through prison cell bars in sunlight and forming in front of Not-Leo, who smiles, genuine and in love when he sees Apollo (Jason?). This Leo is wearing a plain, dirty chiton and lace-up sandals, his dark curls dirty and long. He speaks in a language Jason doesn’t know and he laughs into the kisses. Apollo is in love with this Not-Leo. Loves him more than anything. 

When the Not-Leo asks Apollo to steady the winds and ensure safe passage for him and his Father, Apollo agrees without a second thought. He loves him and he’ll ensure that the gods stay out of it. They’ll escape Crete together and Apollo will take care of him once he’s free. 

Not-Leo pouts and firmly tells him he can take care of himself. 

‘ _ I’ll make you into a god, beloved,’ _

A snort from the Not-Leo, who leans onto the balls of his feet to kiss Apollo/Jason. His lips are soft and warm and damp. His dark eyelashes fan against his dark skin and he smells like sweat and ash. Apollo has wound his arms around his thin waist. 

_ ‘Do me one better, my love, and make me happy’ _

Apollo clears the sky for his lover. And his lover’s father tells him advice that might as well have damned him. 

_ Do not fly too high, Icarus, nor too low. For your wings will melt from your lovers’ pride, or clump together from Posideon’s cruelty _

Icarus is a mirror image of his lover because the mortal lovers of gods are always just like them, and so pride swallows him whole, like a great mythical beast. He flies high to meet his lover, the god Apollo, and his own pride burns Icarus’ wings, damning him to a watery grave. 

Apollo cannot make his lover into a god, so he settles for making him into myth, and the two are similar enough that it feels no different. 

Leo is Icarus and fuck, isn’t that a fitting comparison. 

Leo has metal wings and he will never burn or melt, but he can still drown, and pride isn’t Leo’s flaw. He’s flying too low for the sun to ever reach him, but the waves are lapping at the metal wings, rusting them. Slowly, but surely. 

Icarus helped his father build the Labyrinth. It makes sense he’d be reborn as Hephaestus’ prodigal son. 

Jason knows he loves Leo, even if he didn’t have the memories of Apollo and Icarus banging around in his skull like offbeat drums. But. Knowing who Leo used to be, that Apollo loved the past-Leo and Jason still has that void of burning, bright divinity banging around in his chest, it feels like-

Fate. 

Destiny. 

It aches in Jason’s chest, just left of the warmth and Jason needs to tell Leo. 

Drew’s words echo like a curse. 

He sits up suddenly at the sound of feet scuffing on the sand, spinning to see who was coming-

He looks tired. Long, black, tight curls pulled back into a loose  _ thing,  _ exposing pierced ears. His skin looks darker in the nighttime black and his teeth glow in his lazy grin. But even Jason can see the exhaustion clinging to him. Leo’s actually doing his GED, getting his diploma. Maybe even college if Leo feels like it because if Leo wanted to go, Jason knows colleges would bow and break themselves to have Leo attend. 

“Yo, Sparky,” Leo calls, rocking back on his heels, “Harpies are looking ravenous tonight. Sure you wanna stick around?”

Jason wants to hold him, press his forehead against his and just- exist within Leo’s space of existence. He wants to be able to tell Leo that he’s perfect and amazing and Jason loves him like how a wolf loves the moon. He wants to bury his face in the crook of Leo’s neck and breath him in, he wants to be able to see Leo happy and in love, with him, hopefully. He wants  _ Leo _ . He wants his energy and deft, ever-moving fingers. He wants his sharp taunts and terrible humor and the fact he can be annoying at times, but who gives a fuck, because he’s Jason’s best friend. Jason wants his intelligence and his freckles and the way he never, ever talks about his pain, but he doesn’t make Jason talk about his, so it’s fine. 

Jason  _ wants.  _ That is not something he is used to feeling. 

Leo cocks his head, smile wavering as Jason stares at him. “Earth to Jason?” he asks, stepping closer, close enough that Jason can smell the remnants of cigarette smoke and that oily smell the Bunker has. “Anyone home?”

Jason shakes himself and pulls his lips into a weak grin, “Yeah,” he answers, voice rough from disuse. “Yeah, sorry, kinda spaced out there”

Leo rolls his eyes like he’s saying ‘well, obviously’ and his dark eyes dart over to the destroyed dummies. He whistles lowly, “Shit, man,” and he gravitates towards the straw dummies, “You good? The hell they do to you? Call you four-eyes? Steal your lunch money?”

Jason follows him, sheathing his sword. “No,” he admits, shifting on his feet. The truth is ‘ _ I like you too much and this is the only way I know how to clear my mind so I don’t do anything stupid’.  _

He says “I just needed to burn some energy” instead. 

Leo trails his dark, burnt wood eyes back over to Jason, taking him in. He sighs, rolling his eyes again like Jason is a clueless puppy and turns on his heel. “C’mon, Grace,” he says, and Jason follows him as they walk out of the Arena, the cool night drying Jason’s sweat-slick skin, “You can watch me fuck up another project in the Bunker. It’s always nice to have someone there to hold my tools and then give me the  _ wrong _ tools when I ask for them”

Jason nudges him with his elbow. “Hey,” he pouts, “that only happened a few times. How the Hades am I supposed to know the difference between Philip’s Head and Token Screwdriver?”

Leo snorts, grinning up at him. “It’s  _ Torx,  _ Sparky. Jeez, it’s a good thing you’re pretty”

And- 

Jason smiles sincerely down at Leo, the praise sparking in his chest like the miniature fireworks the Stoll Brothers are known to have. He doesn’t even reply, just- smiles, like an idiot, listening to Leo babble about his new project for the week as they walk to the Bunker. 

Every so often, Leo will be replaced by a boy with a dirty white chiton and skin a shade or two darker, with wings dripping wax on the floor behind them. 

But Jason shoves down the memories, swallowing them like he’s swallowing a rock. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever tell Leo, both about who he used to be, or the way Jason feels about him. This feels easier, less dangerous and Jason can’t handle losing another person. 

Piper has distanced herself from him, Nico’s growing up, Reyna hasn’t talked to him since he came back and his sister is with the Hunters. 

Leo’s all he has left. 

So, he just smiles and follows Leo ( ~~Icarus~~ ) into the Bunker, and swears he won’t burn Leo this time around. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> slán! come shout at me on [my tumblr!](https://thelosttrio.tumblr.com//)


End file.
